Y’all Be Like “I Hate Bts But This Song Is So Good 🙈” And I Go To Listen To The Song And It’s

L'amour à la mer (Guy Gilles, 1964)

📔🌿 𝓬𝓸𝔃𝔂 𝓪𝓬𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓶𝓲𝓪 🌿📔

i cannot make speeches

cinnamon girl - lana del rey // emma (2020) - dir. autumn de wilde // text post - @tturing​ // the unbearable lightness of being - milan kundera // the song i’ll never write - gary barlow // earth, my likeness - walt whitman // the most profound things are inexpressible - christina badal // @theweeknd on twitter via @z-ndjenja​ // cinnamon girl - lana del rey

All time ever does is pass

and all you ever do is remember.

sagau

imagine if the reader respawned after they killed her. she just like, wakes up again on top of one of liyue's mountains, a huge scar in the form of a line around their neck. they could practically still feel the fear and adrenaline rushing through them as the guillotine fell down. it'd be simple for them to run off and try to hide somewhere.

meanwhile, the everyone is in absolute chaos.

they saw the golden blood and immediately realized how badly they fucked up. the corpse was there for a few seconds, just allowing everyone to get a nice, good look of it, before teyvat pulled the body into the ground to be healed somewhere else. i can imagine how xiao might try to chase after it; quickly falling to the ground with centuries worth of repressed tears flowing from his eyes. zhongli would be frozen for a few moments, the geo power flowing within him seemingly quiet. no hesitation from the sobbing venti to scratch at the ground and beg for their grace to come back.

teyvat knows that the reader can't go back to their home, teyvat never planned to bring them back in the first place, but at the world is protective enough to separate them from their acolytes.

-888 anon

Hello new anon what the fuck this is fantastic marry me /j bsjdndjddj THE ANGST I LOVE IT <333

Imagine reader having unending night terrors after that— how can they not? How can they even pretend they're okay after they were so brutally killed with their death being celebrated by the masses, by people they once adored and loved and built. If nothing else, the scar around their neck reminded them of their unjust murder, and so they keep themselves away from everybody, even children. They're painfully lonely, so scared and tired but they would choose this loneliness a hundred times over being killed again.

Reader's acolytes are tearing Teyvat apart in search for them, and are tearing into themselves for their foolish, unforgivable actions. Zhongli doesn't leave a single stone unturned even when the earth stubbornly ignores him, his adepti and the qixing at every other corner of Liyue; Venti flies over every nook and cranny of Mondstadt with the knights and even with dvalin, always praying and praying for forgiveness; Ei has all of Inazuma and the Commissions working triple time in her desperate search for you. Each night is spent wallowing and weeping for the horrific mistake they did.

None of them can find Reader of course; Teyvat no longer trusts them them with its Creator and so now, Teyvat will ensure they won't ever again hurt Reader.

Solar eclipse. March 20th 2015 as seen from Leicester, UK

Now as a .gif,  because this is Tumblr

Jean-Paul Sartre, from No Exit: And Three Other Plays; “No Exit”

Text ID: If I've got to suffer, it may as well be at your hands, your pretty hands.

rawest fucking hozier lyrics in no particular order:

i’d suffer hell if you’d tell me what you’d do to me tonight

heat of her breath in my mouth; im alive

i’d be the choiceless hope in grief that drove him underground

idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword

and when the earth is trembling on some new beginning with the same sweet shock of when adam first came

every version of me dead and buried in the yard outside

the stench of the sea and the absence of green are the death of all things that are seen and unseen

if I was born as a blackthorn tree i’d wanna be felled by you, held by you, fuel the pyre of your enemies

some like to imagine the dark caress of someone else, I guess any thrill will do

before the wave hits, marveling at god; before he feels alone one final time and marries the sea

betray the moon as acolyte on first and fierce affirming sight

i have never known peace like the damp grass that yields to me, I have never known hunger like these insects that feast on me

screaming the name of a foreigner’s god; the purest expression of grief

sweet and right and merciful, i’m all but washed in the tide of her breathing

but you don’t know the hell you put me through; to have someone kiss the skin that crawls from you

so i try to talk refined for fear that you find out how i’m imagining you

my head was war, my skin was soaked, I called your name ‘til the fever broke

be still, my indelible friend, you are unbreaking

remember me, love, when i’m reborn as a shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn

“I don’t know what living a balanced life feels like. When I am sad, I don’t cry, I pour. When I am happy, I don’t smile, I glow. When I am angry, I don’t yell, I burn. The good thing about feeling in extremes, is when I love, I give them wings. But perhaps that isn’t such a good thing, cause they always tend to leave and you should see me, when my heart is broken. I don’t grieve, I shatter.”

— Rupi Kaur, Milk and Honey